Empty Pages
by l0velyfe
Summary: "I know what love looks like. I've seen it in Hermione's eyes when she looks at Ron. That's how he looked at you." Harry sets off to speak the words that were left unsaid. But how much has Draco changed in nearly two years? /M-rated Drarry/
1. One

_Without further ado, I present to you my newest project... Empty Pages._

_I'll keep it short and simple. Post-war, Draco and Harry have gone their separate ways. Harry's been blind – everyone saw how Malfoy looked at him back in school, even Ginny... Harry realizes that there were many words left unsaid and sets out on a mission to change that. But how much has Draco changed in nearly two years?_

_This will be a multi-chapter fic; if I had to guess I'd say ten to twelve chapters. _

_One final note before the disclaimer: I like to have a central theme to my characters' relationships, and with that usually comes a song that describes the story in a whole. The song for this fic is __**Bleed**__ by Hot Chelle Rae. I recommend listening to it and recognizing the lyrics; they relate to this story quite well._

_Disclaimer ... I do not own Harry Potter or any of these characters. They belong to the ingenious J.K. Rowling. This plot, however, does belong to me._

**Warnings – implied Harry/Ginny**

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><p><strong><em>Empty Pages<em>**

_Chapter One – Drowning in Ice Water_

_Written by Illumination_

"It's because of him, isn't it?"

Harry looked up from his intertwined fingers upon his lap. "Who?"

The redhead fixed him with an incredulous stare. He didn't flinch like he had in the past. Perhaps he was growing used to it. It wasn't his choice that he and Ginny grow apart. In fact, he found himself quite saddened by the happenings of the past two weeks.

"Harry, you've been having dreams about him for the past month."

The brunette lowered his gaze, his face heating up. "I told you, it's nothing."

"Harry James Potter." At that, the teen did wince. Ginny's tone was not one to be tampered with. He felt like a child being scolded by his mother. "I'm not thick like my brothers. On the contrary, I'm not bloody blind like you must be." Harry knew better than to interrupt. She was on one of her rampages, and he figured it was best just to let her yell and work through it.

"If you honestly never saw it for the six years you went to Hogwarts then you're bloody daft, Harry. He pined after you. All he wanted was your attention."

"Ginny, who're you talking about–"

"I'm talking about Malfoy. Draco Malfo–"

"That git? Ginny, you're off your rocker if you think he wants anything to do with me..."

The ginger girl crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently on the floor. "Harry, we might not be an item anymore but I like to think I know you pretty well. I know what love looks like because I've seen it in Hermione's eyes when she looks at Ron. And he reciprocated it. I'm pretty sure my gaze held the same measurement of affection." She uncrossed her arms. "That's how he looked at you."

Harry shut his eyes. This was an ongoing issue he'd been putting off for months. Yeah, if he hadn't denied Draco's friendly offer that very first day at Hogwarts, things might have been different. Maybe Draco wouldn't have been a Death Eater. Ginny had mentioned once that Harry could have '_saved'_ him. But it wasn't his responsibility to keep the blonde out of trouble. Draco could take care of himself.

But lately, the blonde had been in his dreams. At first, he hadn't thought anything of it. He'd had many dreams about Hogwarts; about the ones who died, and the ones who lived. He woke up screaming some nights. In cold sweats, feeling as if he was drowning in ice water. Crying, even. And Ginny had been right there; practically apparating from her bedroom across the hall to his side. For the first few nights, it didn't trouble him. He went about his daily activities as he usually would, perhaps even forgetting the details of the dream – only that Malfoy had inhabited them. It lingered long enough that it crossed his mind the next night when he lie down in his bed. He blamed that for the reoccurrence, but when the sixth night came along and Harry woke, those silvery eyes still in his vision, he knew something else was going on.

Bringing himself out of his reverie, he met Ginny's azure eyes. "... Malfoy hated me, Ginny. And we went our separate ways almost two years ago. I haven't seen him since."

"You don't hold me like you used to." Her expression was carefully controlled, yet he could see the sadness behind her gaze. He knew her too well to miss that. "You're different. I think I knew it from the beginning, that it would eventually be our downfall, but I didn't want to believe it. I guess I thought I could distract you from it, and maybe you'd forget about him..."

"Ginny, I don't feel that way about Malfoy–"

"Stop denying it, Harry!" Her hands were balled into fists, her voice rising to a high pitch. Harry shut his eyes. He already had a headache from their squabbling like an old married couple. "I know you liked him. At the very least, you were intrigued by him. You wanted to get to know him. You didn't want to be his enemy. He only bullied you and Hermione and Ron because he knew it would get your attention. He was only a prat so you would notice him. And you wanted to make a truce with him, but you waited too long. By the time you were gathering the courage to do it, he was already in over his head with the Death Eaters. He was too far gone, and you didn't know what to do. So you just let him go."

Harry lowered his head, his gaze distant and staring past the table in front of him. How could Ginny read him like an open book? Were his emotions really on his sleeve so much that it was that obvious? Was she the only one who'd seen it? Or had the whole school known? Shaking his head, he looked up at her. "Ginny, I'm sorry I was so bloody–"

"Thick?" She sighed, sitting down beside him on the couch. "Save it. I know you didn't mean it." She turned to look at him, meeting his eyes seriously. "I just want you to be happy, Harry. I was always your friend first, and lover second."

He winced. "Was it really always that obvious?"

She managed a small smile. "A bit. I noticed it around sixth year. The way he looked at you made me so jealous." She looked away. "But you didn't look at him that way, so I thought I had a chance."

"Ginny, that's not why we broke it off–"

"That's a contributing factor Harry, and you know it." She turned that cobalt gaze on him. "I don't want you to always wonder 'what if'. That's the worst feeling in the world." The way she said it made Harry think she'd been in the situation before. "To be honest, I think we're better as friends, Harry. You're like a part of the family. Snogging you is like snogging one of my many brothers." Harry couldn't help but smirk. Ginny reached out to touch his shoulder. "I may be letting you go but that doesn't mean I'm happy about it. Sometimes we just have to do what's right for our friends. Like you with Ron and Hermione." Harry turned to look at her, brows furrowed a bit. "I know, Harry. I mean, of course you didn't like that they were together at first. That kind of ruined your friendship, didn't it?"

Harry shrugged, emerald eyes settling on the flickering flames. "Yeah, I guess I didn't enjoy it too much. Even though I knew Ron fancied Hermione before he knew it himself. But it's alright now. I'm just glad they're happy together."

Ginny nodded. "That's how I'll be, probably. I know I'll get over it. But I might be a bit put out for a while."

"Ron's gonna kill me."

"Don't worry, I'll tell him it's mutual." Harry smiled at the redhead, giving her a small nod.

"Thanks, Ginny."

* * *

><p>The stars were ablaze in the indigo sky, the Milky Way laid across the heavens like a wispy blanket. The little white speckles twinkled, dotting the navy space. It was captivating, really. To most, the midnight sky would provide peace, and serenity. It was tranquil, and diverted your attention from reality if you gazed at it long enough. It was like a dose of cool placidity that washed over you like a chilled ocean wave.<p>

But to Harry, the cool summer night only offered quiet. Isolation. Time to think.

Time to think about things that he had been putting off for so long, that he almost dreaded letting it creep into his mind again. He didn't want to dip into that void of uncertainness. But, seeing as he couldn't put it off any longer, he grudgingly allowed himself to muse over it.

Sure, he missed Malfoy. He missed everyone from Hogwarts, though. What was strange was, he actually missed the banter that occurred between them. He felt sort of incomplete without having someone to argue with; someone to make a mockery of, and vice versa. Although, he had never truly hated the blonde. It was more of an extreme dislike. The Malfoys were so proud, so arrogant, that it irritated him. They thought they were better than everyone else. He had also grown to loathe Malfoy because he'd tormented those close to him. But, if what Ginny was saying was true, then Malfoy had only done all of that to get his attention. That thought scared Harry. Would Draco really go through all that trouble just get himself noticed? Was it because Harry had been The Chosen One? Or was his goal always to get him on Voldemort's side?

Malfoy had always seemed cold and unfeeling. Stoic. But that had mostly been an act, Harry knew. The one day he'd found him crying in the bathroom proved that logic right, as well as the night Snape had murdered Dumbledore. He had never wanted to be a Death Eater. Perhaps he had tried to take pride in it, because it was a chance to save his family, but there was no way he would have killed Dumbledore. Harry wondered if Ginny was right. If Harry had become his friend and kept him from the dark side, what would have become of the world? Katie Bell never would have been cursed, Ron never poisoned. Dumbledore wouldn't have died at the hands of Snape, because Draco would have never been assigned the task of killing him. Maybe the Death Eaters never would have even gotten into the castle. Would Dumbledore still be alive? Snape might even still be alive, because Voldemort wouldn't have had a good reason to kill him. The Elder Wand wouldn't have been loyal to Draco. Harry pushed those thoughts out of his head. What was done was done. There was nothing he could do to go back and change it.

Ginny had said Draco looked at him like he... Had feelings for him. Like Ron and Hermione looked at each other. There was nothing all that strange about a male having feelings for another male... To Harry, the heart wanted what it wanted, and it made no difference if you were male or female. But Malfoy was just someone who was... Out of the question. An enemy for six long years. Someone who he'd always believed to hate him. Someone he'd always disliked. Feelings that rooted couldn't just change overnight.

Oh, was he about to prove himself wrong.

* * *

><p>Another night, another dream of Malfoy. The unconscious fantasies were becoming more and more intimate, and this very night was the finishing touch. Harry knew he couldn't just blame this on his 'curious teenage mind' anymore. He was in too deep.<p>

As he lay on his side, staring at the desk across the room through blurry eyes, he felt something had changed. He had no reason to detest Draco anymore. It had been so long since he'd seen him or even spoke to him... Harry began to wonder if he still looked the same. Was he still as lean? Where did he live now? Still at Malfoy Manor? Did he have a job? Harry had heard once that he'd wanted to be employed at the Ministry of Magic, somewhere in the Department of Law once he was done with his seven years at Hogwarts. Harry wondered if Draco would even be considered for that job anymore, after having been a Death Eater.

How would he even begin to contact Draco...? He knew where the Manor was... That was a start. Examining the heavens, Harry allowed a small smile to curve his lips. What could go wrong? If Draco didn't want to talk to him still, then that was his loss. There was nothing for Harry to lose, really. And perhaps it would put Ginny's stubborn mind to rest if Harry talked to the blonde.

Sitting up, he climbed back down through the window into his room. Removing his shirt and pants, he settled down in bed and stared up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep.

And Ginny heard not a sound, all night.


	2. Two

_This chapter did turn up a bit shorter than I wanted, and it jumps right into the rising action part of the plot. I'm quite excited to dive into this conflict; I've never written a story quite like this one._

_Enjoy!_

**Warnings – trauma**

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><p><strong><em>Empty Pages<em>**

_Chapter Two – Shade of Blue_

_Written by Illumination_

_Draco Malfoy,_

_I know I'm probably the last person you'd expect to be writing you. And if you'd like to throw this letter aside now, there's nothing I can do to stop you. But I'd appreciate it if you'd just hear me out._

_I've been wondering how you are, after everything that's happened. I read in the paper that your father was sentenced to Azkaban for life... I'm sorry. I hope you and your mother are doing alright. As for me, I've been staying at the Burrow with the Weasleys and Hermione. I've been applying at the Ministry to be an Auror. I might have to return to Hogwarts to finish my seventh year. I remember hearing somewhere that you wanted to get a job in the Department of Law, too._

_Draco, I... I can't keep writing like there's nothing wrong. I know there is. You know it too. I've felt incomplete for the past two years. And not just because school is over, or because I finally defeated Voldemort. I've got to write this letter to you and hope you'll read it, because... I've got to get these things off my chest. I've got to say the things I could never say to your face. Perhaps I am a coward, but I have to tell you one way or another. I hope you won't think too badly of me._

_I know, Draco. I know you never hated me when we were in school. Every time you looked at me, your eyes never held hatred. On the contrary, there was something else quite different there. Ron saw it, Hermione saw it, Ginny saw it... Ginny. She and I broke it off, because my full focus wasn't on her. She was the whole reason I'm writing you. She made me realize it... I've been having these dreams, Draco... Of you. I guess I miss you. I miss our banter. I can't help but laugh at those times now. They're like fond memories of a past life. Which is somewhat true I suppose, since I died during the battle at Hogwarts. But that doesn't make me miss you any less now._

_I was wrong to deny your friendship that first day at Hogwarts. We were eleven. I was young, and stupid. If I could change it now, I would. Things would have been so much different. You would have been a better person, I think. And although I know it's not my fault, I do feel guilty. I feel like I let you down. And even though I can't change the past, I can influence the future. That's why I'm writing this letter to you. To apologize. To try to mend our relationship to something worthy of the title 'friendship'. It's not all that impressive, but it's a start. And everything has to start somewhere._

_There were so many words that were never said. So many times when we could have used each other's help. I regret all that now. But it's all here, in black and white. And you know what they say;; Hindsight is 20/20. I've tried to make sense of everything that's been swirling around in my head. And if you read this and want nothing to do with me, then so be it. But Draco, just know that... Nothing seems right anymore without you around. I need you in my life._

_Harry James Potter_

With a frustrated groan, Harry crumpled the parchment into a tiny ball and threw it into the pile of wrinkled, levitating, burning letters. The cinders floated to the floorboards, black as coal. He'd spent the whole day trying to express everything he felt within, but it seemed impossible. At first, he'd began by trying to word his feelings so they didn't scare Malfoy away. Gradually, he had progressed to writing everything down, then trying to organize it into some sort of sense. But bearing every feeling like this made him feel vulnerable. Every time, he couldn't bring himself to keep the letter intact, and burned the evidence so Malfoy himself could never use it against him. Perhaps Ginny had been right about that too. He had built up a wall between himself and other people. It was most likely from losing so many that were close to him. He was wary to get close to many people... The more you cared, the more you had to lose. That wall had prevented Ginny and him from growing any closer – that hadn't been the only reason, but it was a big part of it.

Closing his eyes, he pulled out another piece of parchment and dipped his quill into the ink. This letter would be different. He wouldn't throw it away. He wouldn't burn it. He would write whatever he felt, and send it off. His hand shook as he touched the tip of the quill to the paper.

_Mrs. Malfoy,_

_I assume you're surprised that I am writing you. I'd like you to know that I bear no ill will towards you or your family... In fact, I'd like to speak to your son, if possible. I feel as if we both began and ended on the wrong foot, and now that everything's done, I'd like to try and start over._

_I'm sorry about Mr. Malfoy. I read about what happened in the paper. Let me know if there's anything I can do._

_Harry J. Potter_

He tucked his quill away as the ink dried, then folded the paper carefully. Standing, Harry made his way over to the window, looking out upon the grassy plains surrounding the tall house. "Pigwidgeon," Harry murmured, not even sure if the little owl was around. Errol wasn't to be trusted with post anymore. To Harry's surprise, the small grey owl fluttered to the window, tittering excitedly as claws scraped on the wood sill. Harry held the envelope out, and the bird took it in his beak.

"Pigwidgeon, I need you to take this to Malfoy Manor. Do you know where that is?" The silvery owl raised his head, yellow eyes fixing on Harry. "I know Scops owls aren't supposed to make long deliveries, but you're all I've got. Take a rest if you can't get there in one day, alright? It's not urgent; I just need it to get there." The owl bobbed its head quickly, spreading small wings. Harry wasn't sure if it could understand him, but he hoped the letter would at least get there, as well as Pigwidgeon, so he wouldn't have to explain to Ron how he got his owl lost.

* * *

><p>Draco was near. In pain. But not matter how far or how fast Harry ran, he couldn't get to him. He could hear the strangled cries; nearly taste the scent of blood in the air. His heart thudded against his ribcage as he pushed himself harder, desperately trying to reach the blonde. The agonized screams echoed in his ears and dread settled in his stomach.<p>

"**Where is Harry Potter?"**

"I don't know! _I don't know!_"

Another shriek of pain. It was dark. Frazzled, Harry pleaded his legs to move faster. "Draco? DRACO!"

"**I will ask you one last time. **_**Where is Harry Potter?**_**"**

"Please, I don't know where he i–"

"**AVADA KEDAVRA!"**

"NO!"

Harry fell to his knees beside the fallen body of the Malfoy heir. The boy's skin was pale, his lips nearly blue. He didn't move.

"Draco... DRACO!"

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><p>"Harry, wake up!"<p>

Hands were shaking his shoulders. Dazed, the brunette sat up. Ginny sat before him – he could tell by her voice and the way she touched his arm – but he couldn't meet her eyes. His whole body was trembling like an autumn leaf in the midst of a hurricane.

"... Harry?"

He barely heard her. His stare was past the sheets that his eyes were set on.

"... Harry, he's okay..."

At those words, Harry's walls crumbled. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks, staining his shirt and the sheets upon the bed. His stomach convulsed as he sobbed quietly. Ginny sighed audibly and settled her hand upon his shoulder.

"Harry, you need to go see him. Tomorrow."


	3. Three

_Chapter three is here, readers. I hope I did an alright job of portraying Narcissa. Her character isn't vastly explored in the series so it is a bit difficult to imagine how she would react in this situation. I mainly focused on her being protective of her son, because that's how she always was. Draco being safe was always her first priority._

_Anyway, on with the chapter! Enjoy._

**Warnings – none**

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><p><strong><em>Empty Pages<em>**

_Chapter Three - Frozen_

_Written by Illumination_

Having been to the Manor before, Harry was able to apparate within the vicinity. He was only a few dozen yards shy of appearing on the front doorstep. Fortunately, he'd landed inside the large black ebony fence, so he didn't have to deal with the gate which would most likely deny him entrance.

The mansion loomed up before him, just as he remembered. Eerie; ominous, almost. The black spikes upon the roof reached up toward the gray clouds. The hedges surrounding the path up to the house seemed to lack some of their luster. Harry made his way toward the manor slowly, gripping his wand cautiously. It was quite possible that he wasn't welcome here, even though Narcissa had – for lack of a better word – _invited_ him. He had no idea what ambushes could be hiding along the path, placed there to discard of intruders just like him.

He'd had to tell Hermione and Ron. Ginny helped. Hermione seemed to take it well; in fact, she'd admitted she agreed with Ginny, and assumed this would happen someday. Ron, on the other hand, promptly left. Harry had expected something along those very lines; after all, Ron had already been on edge with him for breaking it off with his little sister. To find out Harry had done it because he had feelings for their former enemy... Well, that about did it. Harry felt guilty, but he knew Ron would forgive him, in time. Hermione confirmed that.

"_Ron will get over it. I'll talk to him. Harry, do what you think is right for you, but..." _She'd held his shoulders with both hands. _"... Come back to us, in one piece, alright?"_

Harry smiled faintly as he recalled her embrace. She had a way of making him feel like someone cared; not once had she told him he shouldn't do something. She'd always supported him, because she trusted his judgment. Not that Ron wasn't like that, but... Hermione's initial reactions were just more... Reassuring.

Finally, he halted on the doorstep. Reaching into his pocket, he extracted the letter Mrs. Malfoy had sent him in reply just last night. Her handwriting was neat and smooth; similar to what he imagined Draco's to be like.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_I must admit, I was surprised to receive a letter from a little gray owl this morning. He seemed quite put out. It's no wonder – the poor thing seems fit to be a local messaging owl. Nonetheless, he delivered the letter to me and hunkered down for a nap on my windowsill while I wrote out this reply._

_I hold nothing against you, Harry. The war is over. Our beliefs are not the same, but you are part of the reason Draco and I are free of the Dark Lord. Perhaps it would be different if Lucius were here, but now I can vouch for Draco as well when I say these things._

_I think it would be best if we were to speak in person._

_Narcissa Malfoy_

The brunette stuffed the letter back into his pocket and raised emerald eyes to the large oak door. It looked like it would burn if he were to touch it. Lifting a hand, he tentatively gripped the knocker. It was shaped like a dark green snake, and the Malfoy's family crest formed the upper part of the knocker. Nothing happened, so Harry lifted it and knocked twice.

The door opened by itself. _Like magic._ Harry smirked and stepped into the dark entryway. The door shut quietly behind him. "... Hello?" Jade eyes peered around the room he was standing in. It seemed like a den of sorts, complete with a fireplace and bookshelves.

A sudden movement was sighted out of the corner of his eye, and he turned toward it quickly, gripping his wand tightly enough to whiten his knuckles. The figure stepped around the corner, revealing herself. His fingers loosened. Narcissa.

"Harry."

She spoke but one word; his name. They both remained motionless, and silent, for the time it took them to register the gravity of the situation. Finally, she stepped forward, approaching him, and stood before him. "Harry. I trust you made it here safely?" He nodded, olive orbs lingering on the features of her face. Draco didn't carry many of her traits, besides the distinct colour of her eyes. Draco's eyes were a liquid mix of his mother's and father's; blue-gray.

What she did next was unexpected, although somewhat anticipated. The woman embraced him, squeezing him lightly, and then stepped back once again. There was an aura of gratitude and trust surrounding them. "Come," she murmured, turning and leading him into the drawing room. It was all too familiar. This was where the Death Eaters had met during the second wizarding war. Voldemort himself had sat in one of the chairs at the long table. Harry could still hear Hermione's screams as Bellatrix tortured her, carving her blood heritage into her arm.

"The Ministry has been taking things."

Harry turned back to look at Narcissa, who was standing a few lengths behind him. She nodded her head toward the deep purple walls. Harry dully noted that they did look rather bare. "I'm afraid our fortune has been lost. We will keep the house, mind you, but... We could have lost much more."

Harry examined her sad expression. The Malfoys hadn't escaped the war without scars either. Lucius was in Azkaban for life, Bellatrix dead... Narcissa seemed rather lonely, and appreciative to have a guest. That fact brought Harry's main cause to his attention.

"Where's Draco?"

Narcissa raised blue eyes to look at him for a long moment, and then motioned for him to sit. Warily, he settled down in one of the chairs. Why had she hesitated in her answer? Uncomfortable – even dreadful – thoughts passed through his head, and he squirmed a bit in his seat as she made herself comfortable beside him.

"After we realized you were alive, we left Hogwarts. We returned here. Lucius and I decided on a place to hide Draco first; he was the priority. I accompanied him to a hideout at an old friend's house, far away from here. I returned to find the Ministry taking Lucius." She lowered her head. Harry could tell it was difficult for her to speak about this. "I can still hear his yells. He didn't want to go. Of course I protested. I'd known they would come for him, but how they arrived so quickly escapes me. There was nothing I could do. They took him. We were given no time to say goodbye." She raised her head, jaw set firmly but eyes teary. "Some of them stayed behind and questioned me. Naturally, I was not liable to be arrested. I was never a Death Eater. They wanted to know where Draco was. They tortured me. But I never told." She sighed, obviously rattled by reliving the scenes. "Eventually, the Ministry announced a hearing date, claiming that if Draco was not present on that day, he would be considered a fugitive and, if caught, sentenced to Azkaban for life as well. Draco made the choice to attend the trial. I accompanied him. Not enough evidence was found to convict him. They let him go with restrictions on his use of magic and probation." A slight smile touched her face. "All I ever wanted was for him to be safe."

Harry ran his fingers along the golden designs etched the table. "So he's alright now, right?"

Narcissa dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a napkin conjured out of thin air. "Yes." Harry waited until she was done, and fixed his eyes on hers.

"Where is he?"

Again, Narcissa seemed a bit uncomfortable. She looked down, and then placed her hands in her lap. Her expression was carefully neutral, revealing nothing about what was running through her mind. "What do you want with my son, Mr. Potter?"

Back to formalities. Harry straightened himself, musing over his possible answers. After a few moments of silence, he met her eyes sincerely. "I made a mistake. Loads of them, actually... But, I... Ah." He looked down, shaking his head. How could he explain this to her without awkwardness or her refusing to let him see her son? "This is all coming out wrong–..."

"He missed you." Her voice was but a murmur as she interrupted his ramblings gently. "During the time he was in hiding, we wrote letters. He mentioned your name more than once. He kept asking me if I knew anything about you; if you were alive, where you were... I told him all I knew."

"I just want to reconcile with him. There were too many words left unsaid," Harry murmured, looking at her hesitantly. She seemed to understand the unspoken words that were alight in his gaze.

"He found a place of his own nearly seven months ago. I can give you his address. But Harry, I insist that you stay the night here before you travel to see him. It's quite late, and you need rest."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but the stern, motherly expression on Narcissa's face prevented him from doing so. With a sigh, he nodded. "Here, you can sleep in Draco's room."

* * *

><p>The sheets still smelled like him.<p>

After nearly seven months, his scent still lingered within the fabric of both the blankets and the sleeping clothes Harry borrowed. He flopped down on the bed, buried his face in the pillow, and inhaled deeply. Releasing it with a small shudder, he pulled the blankets up to his clavicle and stared at the very ceiling that Draco had stared at for the many summer months between school years.

Tomorrow he would see him. After almost two whole years. Apprehension pooled in his stomach for the first time as he realized the reality. In the past few days, he had gone from vaguely wondering where Malfoy was to feeling an intense urge to see him and needing him in his life. And as if that wasn't enough stress on his emotions, tomorrow he would look into those silvery-blue eyes he had dreamt of and confess everything that he himself could barely comprehend. How he would make sense of it, he didn't know. But he'd always gotten by on improvisation, even when it came to defeating Voldemort. He had more confidence in just letting the words come out than trying to plan it and worry himself up even more than he already was.

He drew in a deep breath and shut his eyes, breathing in Draco's essence. Tomorrow would be a long day. He needed the sleep. And tonight, he could pretend that the blonde was lying right next to him.

Even if it was just pretend.


	4. Four

_This was such a challenge. I really hope it lives up to the work I put into it. _

_Plot twist in this chapter... You might cry._

**Warnings – have some napkins handy**

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><p><em><strong>Empty Pages<strong>_

_Chapter Four – Turned to Stone_

_Written by Illumination_

Harry stood in the middle of the cul-de-sac for what could have been hours. It was quiet community; hardly a single soul stirring outside the homes. Harry found it strange that Draco would reside in such a close-knit muggle neighborhood; he had always been completely resistant to muggle ways. He wondered what had compelled him to move here, when he could have lived in his secluded mansion.

The house directly in the middle was the very address Narcissa had given him. It was made of brick, like every other house on the block, and although it was quite large, it was nowhere near the side of the manor. Two large stories towered over an empty driveway and a flawless green lawn. Two fruit trees grew to the left of the driveway – perhaps if it wasn't winter, Harry could have been able to tell which kind of fruit. An assortment of other plants decorated the space around the house. Harry breathed in the scent of firewood. This place reminded him of the Dursley's.

A slight breeze ruffled the brunette's hair, disrupting the stillness of the evening. He was ready.

One foot in front of the other. Breathe. Suddenly, he was standing on the front doorstep, staring at the dark brown oak door. His heart was pounding in his chest; whether it was from nerves or excitement or both, he couldn't be sure. It had been so long, and for the moment, he was focused on not hugging Malfoy as soon as he appeared on the other side of the door. He was more anxious than when he had been preparing to fight Voldemort. Not even Ginny had created feelings like these.

One last deep breath. He inflated his lungs, and lifted a hand to press the doorbell with one finger. It sounded within the house, and Harry's adrenaline spiked his exhilaration even more. This was it. Whatever happened now would change both of their lives.

There was movement within the house, and Harry fought the urge to turn and run. He was so unfamiliar with rejection, and so wary of it. "Just stay calm, stay calm," he murmured under his breath. Footsteps were growing louder. His breath caught in his throat.

The knob turned.

The door swung open.

Harry stared.

...

The woman standing before him had long brown hair partially pinned behind her head. Her eyes were a dark brown as well. She looked quite familiar. Harry found his voice, awkwardly shifting his weight.

"Sorry, I must have the wrong–"

"Who is it, love?"

Harry was cut off by a male voice. An all too familiar voice that dug little pins and needles into the back of his neck, all the way down his spine. The woman turned halfway to look over her shoulder. Harry's suspicions were confirmed.

Those eyes.

Like a lake bathed in liquid moonlight.

Harry stood there for what could have been minutes or hours, making a fool of himself, before the tears in his eyes made it impossible for him to look into those silvery blue orbs any longer. Once that occurred, there was no reason for him to be in their presence. He turned and ran.

How thick could he be...? Of course Draco had moved on. Of course he had a partner, and was living a normal life. Had Ginny been completely wrong? Was he never interested in Harry? After falling nearly head over heels in the short span of a week, Harry had expected Draco to be surprised to see him. He'd dreamed that the blonde would share his confession. He'd craved Draco's smile when Harry admitted everything. And perhaps he'd even readied himself for Draco to reject him; tell him it had been too long, or he no longer had those intimate feelings he'd had during school.

But Harry wasn't prepared for this.

He had stumbled aimlessly down the sidewalk, tears streaming down his face, barely able to see where he was going. Somehow, he had ended up in a small wooded area, where the underbrush grew thickly. Only when he slowed, bewildered as to where he was, did he realize someone was following him, calling his name breathlessly.

"Potter!"

Harry turned slowly, taking a few steps away from the blonde who was jogging up to him. Unfortunately, his feet became tangled in the mess of undergrowth and he lost his footing, falling amongst the thorn bushes. He put his hands out instinctively to break the fall, and felt the immediate pain.

"Honestly, Potter..."

Draco approached him, offering a hand. Harry took it, wincing at the pressure on his wounds, and stood up from the prickly scrubs. Wordlessly, Draco pulled his wand from his belt, vanished the blood on his own hand, and murmured a quiet spell to seal up the cuts upon Harry's palms.

"How did you find me?"

Harry watched as the tip of Draco's wand lingered over the heel of his hand, closing the slices. "Your mum." Those ashen-blue eyes snapped up to him.

"... How is she?"

"She seemed lonely."

Draco's eyes returned to Harry's now healed hand. He didn't speak a word while he stowed his wand in his belt again. Harry's heart felt as if it were bleeding.

"Who is she, Draco?"

The blonde was quiet for a long moment. Finally, after Harry thought he wasn't going to answer, he murmured, "Astoria. Astoria Greengrass. Do you remember her?" Harry shook his head, unsure of what expression was plastered on his face. "She was two years behind us. In Slytherin."

It was Harry's turn to fall silent. Everything he'd realized; all the emotions that had been building up inside him... All for nothing. There were no words to describe the despair he felt as he stood there, only a few feet away from the one he...

_Loved_.

He loved Draco Malfoy.

It took all his self-control and willpower not to allow the tears to overflow right then and there.

"So what do you want?"

Harry blinked, trying to comprehend what Draco was saying. "... What?"

"You obviously came for a reason." The blonde looked him up and down. "You haven't changed much."

The smile that touched Harry's lips didn't reach his eyes. "Neither have you..."

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of the Chosen One appearing on my doorstep?"

Harry almost winced at the way Draco spat his adopted title, but smiled instead. Just like old times. "I... Just wanted to know how you're doing."

"Codswallop." Harry stared at Draco unseeingly. The urge to flee was creeping up on him again. "You wouldn't have run if that was all you wanted."

Harry was silent. There was nothing he could say. Nothing that would make any difference.

"Come on, out with it Potter!"

Closing his eyes, Harry's hands balled into loose fists. He had nothing left to lose, now. At least he could let Malfoy know he hadn't been blind as a ruddy bat.

"I... I broke up with Ginny."

"... You came all this way to tell me you broke up with Weasel T–"

"Would you just let me finish!"

Shocked into silence, Draco crossed his arms grudgingly and fell silent. Harry adverted his blazing emerald gaze. "I... I broke up with her because I... Well I realized I..." Harry gritted his teeth. "I don't want to be your enemy. I never did. I... I missed you." Harry felt his cheeks burning. "I didn't know what to do, and after all the dreams I had of you, Ginny kind of helped me realize that you never hated me either... And I just... I needed to lay everything out on the line. But I was afraid you'd reject me. We were never anything close to friends and just coming out and admitting I liked you would bugger any chance I had, but I just couldn't live with myself if I didn't at least come here and try..." Harry stopped speaking, beginning to feel himself rambling. He was frightened to look at Draco. The look on his face was probably one of disgust.

"You're not as daft as I thought, Potter."

Harry swallowed. His mouth was dry. Cautiously, he raised his eyes to the taller blonde standing before him. His expression was somber, if not a bit sad. Silvery-blue eyes were not on Harry's; rather lingering on his torso. Harry felt as if the whole forest around them was holding its breath.

"But you're too late."

So many emotions flooded Harry's being at once. Delight and distress clashed, causing Harry's eyes to drastically conflict with his smile. It was too much to take in all at once. He felt his mind threatening to opt out of the situation before him.

Draco's eyes finally met his. They held a history. Their first encounter. Their duel in the Great Hall. An argument during Care of Magical Creatures. Spats during dinner. Throwing snowballs at him from under the invisibility cloak. Encountering each other at the Quidditch World Cup. Their fight in the bathroom when Harry stumbled upon Draco crying. Harry witnessing Draco disarm Dumbledore. Recognizing Harry and not telling Bellatrix and his father and mother the truth. Rescuing the blonde from the burning Room of Requirement.

Harry felt the lump in his throat becoming more and more apparent.

"We're to be married in one month," the blonde murmured.

Harry nodded, looking down. Perhaps he bobbed his head a bit too eagerly. Wiping his nose on his sleeve, he tried to gather himself to make it down the homestretch.

"I... Brilliant. Yeah. Good for you, mate..."

"... Yeah, I suppose."

The brunette avoided his eyes. "I should probably be... Going now. Hermione and Ginny will worry."

"... Right. Yeah."

Harry fought the urge to crumble to pieces. He couldn't break down in front of Draco. He wouldn't. "I'll, uh... See you around."

Harry felt Draco's eyes on him. He knew he was being rude, and Draco would probably think badly of him later. But right now, he just needed to get away. His heart felt as if it had been forcibly ripped open, and all the juices sucked out.

"Harry?"

He froze. Those silvery eyes were on him.

"I... I'm sorry. Really."

The sob that escaped the teen's lips before he apparated echoed in Draco's ears.


	5. Five

_I wrote this when I was in quite the same situation as Harry... So these emotions of desperately missing a loved one... Are genuine. There have been some really tough things happening in my life lately. I feel like I'm missing half of me. So bear with me, readers, if my updating slows down._

_Enjoy this chapter, nonetheless. This is the centre of the story. Empty pages of a journal._

**Warnings – angst, sorrow**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Empty Pages<em>**

_Chapter Five – Bleed_

_Written by Illumination_

**_August 10th_**

_I never had a chance with you. I wish I had known then what I know now. I wish I could have helped you. I know you were scared. Vulnerability isn't such a bad thing. We're all weak at times. That's why we have friends and those we love to lean on when we're not strong enough on our own. I wish I had been that person for you._

_Now I need you more than ever, and you're not here for me. I guess what comes around goes around. I deserve this. But that doesn't change how I feel about you. Last year, if you had asked me if I thought I would ever remotely love you – much less fall for you – I would have said you were barking mad. There was no way The Chosen One could ever fall for the Malfoy Heir. It would be unfathomable. But now, if you were to ask me how I feel when I look at you..._

_It's hard to explain. I'd have to ask you to excuse the cheesy descriptions, but I can't find any other way to explain it._

_I miss you constantly. Even more so now. I think it's because I know I won't see you again; not for a long time – if ever. And you'll never understand how much that hurts._

_I love you. I couldn't admit it to you in that forest because I was scared. Yeah, me, The Chosen One. I was afraid of rejection. But I guess that didn't matter, because you rejected me anyway._

_When I look into your eyes, I feel... Empowered. Like I can do anything; handle any problem that crosses my path, defeat any enemy. It's like you give me strength. When I think of you, I... I want to touch you, just to see if your skin feels as smooth as it looks. Every instance I can remember when we've touched, it was a quick, fleeting brush, and I can't recall the feel. Even that night... You grabbed my hand, but I don't distinctly remember your contact. And that night, you stood only feet away from me, but... You were miles away. I couldn't reach you._

* * *

><p><strong><em>August 18th<em>**

_I've been locked in my room for over a week now. George apparates in to bring me food three times a day, but some days I don't eat. I've lost weight. Hermione's taken to slipping parchment under the door to write to me, since I won't let her in to talk. I haven't talked to anyone really, except thanks to George. Sometimes he stays, sometimes he seems like he wants to get away as fast as possible. Like my misery is a disease._

_I want to go see you. But I know you probably don't want to be bothered by me, especially with preparations for the wedding. Besides, I don't know if I could handle it. If I were to look into your eyes again, knowing that you were only days away from taking another person's hand in marriage and promising your life to her, it... Would completely destroy me._

_As if I'm not already in that state._

* * *

><p><strong><em>August 21st<em>**

_... I don't even... Have anything to say to these empty pages anymore._

_I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO THEM! I WANT YOU!_

* * *

><p><strong><em>August 25th<em>**

_..._

_I miss you, Draco._

* * *

><p><strong><em>August 30th<em>**

_I finally let Hermione take me outside. It was bright. Ron came too, but he... Seems uncomfortable around me. I think he's still bothered by the whole concept, and besides, he's never been good around people when they're down. Neither have I, really._

_Mrs. Weasley made us lunch. She didn't ask. Nobody said a word about my depressing presence. I suppose Ron told the whole family. They're probably all in shock, like Ron is himself. Hermione seems to be the only one who accepted my decision and stood behind me. I remember when you used to hate her. I hope you still don't. She's really been helping me lately, through this whole disaster. She's been my friend to lean on while I'm weak like this._

_I don't know if I was ever as strong as everyone thought, back in school. For the first two years, I was confused and trying to understand everything. From third to fifth, it was false bravery. I don't think I knew what was in store for me then._

* * *

><p><strong><em>September 3rd<em>**

_My heart sings a melody for you. I've discovered that while I'm like this, the only thing that could truly comfort me is you. Your presence. Your voice. Your eyes. Sure, Hermione can take me places. George can try to make me eat. Ginny can play board games with me. These distractions can cheer me up partially; momentarily. But that's all they are. Distractions from reality._

_I keep waiting for the pain to cease. Because they say time heals all wounds, and that the initial hurt will go away. That you'll get used to it and settle down as you are. They say it was better to have love and lost than not have loved at all, because whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger. You must have killed me, then. Because I don't feel strong without you. I feel broken. Apathetic. Confused. Distraught._

_Nothing can replace you. No one ever will. I've been convinced that you are the only thing that makes me happy anymore. However wrong it is... It's reality. I'm not ashamed. The heart wants what the heart wants. It knows no gender, or family social status, or riches. And I suppose I'll either have to learn how to live without you, or be unhappy forever._

* * *

><p><strong><em>September 5th<em>**

_Tell me. Does she treat you like you're her everything? Does she tell you she loves you every day, more times than you can count? Does she make you feel unique? When she touches you, do you get goosebumps? When she kisses you, do you close your eyes? Does she close hers? Does she brighten your day? Or does she bring you down when her day wasn't great?_

_Is she everything you want? Everything you need? Could she live without you? Could you live without her? Do you look forward to seeing her? Is she the one you think about when you lie down to sleep at night?_

_Because I know when I stare up at the ceiling, I can't sleep because my mind is occupied. Not by things that would have run through my head just a short month ago. Not Voldemort. Not Dumbledore, not Fred, nor Lupin, Tonks, Sirius, or Snape. Not Hogwarts. Not my parents, or if I'm going to get into the training to become an Auror. None of that even reaches the outskirts of my mind._

_Because without you, none of it really matters to me._

_You're the only thing on my mind during those long nights when I can't fall asleep until nearly dawn. Your gaze swims in my vision when I close my eyes and try to sleep. And when I finally do sleep, I dream of you. I wake up, and your scent and presence still lingers around me. In my dazed state, I bask in that bliss for all of ten or so seconds, before I turn my gaze onto the other size of the bed and realize it's empty._

_Then I realize I'm awake again._

* * *

><p><strong><em>September 7th<em>**

_Every little thing makes me think of you. Every minute detail of my day. When I take off my pajamas in the morning, I think of how yours smelled. When I see an apple, I think of you. Especially if it's a green one. Anyone with blonde hair reminds me of you. I'm afraid to change things, as if there's some unseen force that tells me I'll remember every moment better if I keep everything the way it was._

_I have not washed the shirt I was wearing when we spoke. It smells of you, from where it sat in your room, piled upon itself in a chair. I won't let those cuts heal, from the night in the forest. I peel off the scabs every day so they're beginning to scar my palms. The letter from your mum is still tucked away in my pants pocket, and there it will stay. Whenever I hear the word "love", I think of you. Because that's what you called her. And frankly, it makes me grit my teeth._

* * *

><p><strong><em>September 8th<em>**

_I think I know I'll be alright. I mean, I'll find a job. I'll find a place of my own, once I can handle being totally alone. It's just nice to know that you'll be okay. If anything, it's a bit of a relief. I'm glad I can at least struggle through my day knowing you're happy. Happier than me, at least. I don't know if I'll ever be able to be with someone else. Maybe far, far in the future. But I doubt it. It won't last, because I'll constantly compare them to you, and they'll never be everything you are. So I guess it's pointless, because I'll just end up breaking someone's heart._

_And I know what that pain feels like._

_..._

_Who am I kidding? I won't be alright._

_I'm making myself sick. My stomach hurts every day now. I get headaches from the lack of sleep. My nails are completely obliterated; I've chewed them down to the point where they nearly bleed. I cry regularly. I don't know how I have any salt left in my body._

_I wonder if you're suffering too._

* * *

><p><strong><em>September 11th<em>**

_... I got a letter today._

_It was from your mum. She invited me to your wedding._

* * *

><p><strong><em>September 12th<em>**

_I guess I'll go. I mean, I don't think you ever know I'm coming. It'll probably be the last time I see you. But you know what I'll do? I'll put on the best face I can for you. I'll appear so happy for you and her, even though I'm suffering inside. I guess I'm used to it. I've lost almost everyone close to me in my life. Like I told Hermione and Ron in our fifth year... The more you care, the more you have to lose._

_I just can't stop caring though. You think I would have learned my lesson._

* * *

><p><strong><em>September 14th<em>**

_Your wedding is tomorrow. I've borrowed a suit jacket from Charlie. It'll be a bit long on me. Hopefully you don't think too badly of my appearance. I had enough galleons to go buy some nice black slacks, so maybe they'll make up for the jacket._

_I'm sure some people will wonder why I'm there. I'm sure I'll get some nasty looks. Perhaps even some confrontations. Part of me is hoping your mum will realize that might happen and she'll stay close to me. Maybe no one will bug me if I'm with the groom's mum. She said it will be a smaller wedding, though. I don't know how to get to the place it's being held at. I suppose I'll show up at the Manor early and have your mum show me the way._

* * *

><p><strong><em>September 15th<em>**

_Here I go. Excuse my raccoon eyes. I didn't get a wink of sleep last night._

_See you soon, Draco._


	6. Six

_Sooo... This chapter is a plot twist, I'll tell you that much. Probably the moment you've all been waiting for._

_Title of this chapter is a line in another Hot Chelle Rae song called Last One Standing. It is also Drarry relevant. I highly recommend it!_

_Oh, and just something I've been thinking about... Do any of my readers have tumblrs? I'd love to follow you... Leave your username in a review and I'll follow. I'm drarry-centric. _

_Enjoy!_

**Warnings – rated T for well... romantic acts XD**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Empty Pages<strong>_

_Chapter Six – I Need This like Air in My Lungs_

_Written by Illumination_

They say when you fall in love with someone, it makes you a better person. You want to be better for them, so you strive to improve yourself. You love that person not only for who they are, but for what you are when you're with them. You love them not only for what they are making of themselves, but also for what they are making of you. You love them for the part of you they bring out.

These thoughts drifted through Harry's head as he stood by one of the poles holding up the tent. There were white roses everywhere. Floating white lanterns around the tents had been set up. There was no apparent effort to avoid magic. There was no need to; all the people here were wizards, and noble looking ones at that. Harry wondered if he was the only half-blood in the vicinity. He felt like a young child, clinging to mommy's arm. Except the woman he didn't dare stray far from was the mother of the man he loved; not his own.

He felt the stares. Almost accusing, as if everyone was thinking "why is the boy who defeated the Malfoys' superior here?" Harry tried to ignore them, but a few times, when someone gawked for a long time, Harry would meet their eyes and wait until his fiery gaze made them look away. The third time it happened, Narcissa noticed and gently took Harry's elbow. "Come, Harry..."

She led him over to a table where glasses were clustered on the white tablecloth. A large wine bottle – which was apparently charmed – tilted over and poured until both glasses were a third full with white wine. One was offered to him, and he took it hesitantly. Staring at the liquid, he stammered, "M-Mrs. Malfoy, I–"

"Narcissa, Harry. No need for formalities."

"... Narcissa. I'm not... Of age."

The woman turned to him, the corners of her lips turning up a bit. "No one here is concerned, Harry." She took a small sip. Harry hesitated a moment longer, musing over it. He had been drinking butterbeer since his sixth year. He'd only been sixteen. He was twenty now.

He took a little swallow. It tasted of fruit... Like a slightly bitter apple. Not completely appealing to his tastes, he held it securely in his hand as Narcissa spoke with someone he didn't know.

It was hard, completely shutting down his emotions and acting like none of this was affecting him. Narcissa kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, as if she wanted to ask him if he was alright. Outwardly, he looked calm and composed. Inwardly, he was quivering. Shaking, like an earthquake. And soon he would completely fall apart. He just hoped he could make it through this next hour or so. It was the closure that needed to occur.

"Harry, it's almost time for the vows."

His heart leapt into his throat. Maintaining composure by the skin of his teeth, he followed her out of the tent and onto the grassy hill that overlooked the altar.

The white chairs were lined up in two rows of three. About twenty-five or so; enough to seat the amount of people wandering around within the two white tents. Bouquets of flowers lined the outside of the rows. A large arch with green vines stood tall at the front. There was a smartly dressed gentleman playing the violin off to the side. A few other people were seated already.

Narcissa walked past the very back row. And she kept walking. Mortified, Harry lingered near the back rows, following her slowly as she sat in the very front seat on the right side.

Soon, more people began to take their seats. Harry remained on full shutdown mode, trying not to allow the desperate jealousy, affection and heartbreak reach his eyes or mind. The sun was slowly setting behind the horizon, turning the sky above it brilliant shades of pink, orange and red. The only thing Harry could think about was watching the sunset with Draco.

The sudden playing of music startled him out of his thoughts. It was gentle, but he thanked the heavens it wasn't the melody used to bring the bride down the aisle. Glancing over his shoulder, his heart leapt into his throat, sufficiently limiting his breathing.

Draco was walking down the aisle. He still maintained some of his natural swagger when he walked. Two men flanked him; one was Blaise and the other Harry didn't recognize. He assumed they were his best men. Tearing his eyes away, he turned back around. Perhaps this was what it felt to have a full-fledged panic attack. The lump in his throat grew larger, and it hurt. Butterflies swarmed in his stomach. About to break into a cold sweat, he felt the tears burning behind his eyes.

As Draco came into his line of sight, Harry's eyes were drawn to the blonde. He looked... Indifferent. Perhaps he was blocking out all emotion too. Holding his breath, Harry watched as the music continued to play. The man he had become infatuated with; whom he had fallen head over heels for; whom he loved, was standing at an altar, about to be married to a woman whom Harry had spoken to once.

A woman whom Harry was certain didn't – couldn't – love Draco as much as he did.

He had to get out of there.

Standing up, he could feel the stares. Accusing. Curious. Interested. Nervously, he straightened his tie, glancing up at the men. Silvery-blue orbs were examining him, shock in their depths. Confusion. Excitement. Dismay. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

That did it.

Turning, Harry made his way around the outside of the row quickly. He'd lost it, when he promised himself he wouldn't. He ran down the hill. Around the corner of the building where the food was to be served after the vows were exchanged.

"Potter!"

Halting, Harry rested a hand on the red brick wall, breathing heavily even though he hadn't run that far. He turned around slowly, until he could see who was chasing him. Although, he already knew.

Draco.

Harry stared. Draco stared back, still clad in his tuxedo and all. Chest heaving. Silence made the air heavy around them. Harry was sure his eyes betrayed him, revealing everything that was rampaging in his mind and heart. Finally, the blonde spoke.

"You've got two weeks, Potter."

Harry's eyes widened slightly. "Two weeks...?"

Draco nodded curtly. "Two weeks. I'll postpone the wedding. Two weeks to show me what you want me to see. Another chance."

"A second chance..." Harry was stunned into near silence. His body moved of its own accord. Stepping forward, he threw his arms around the taller blonde, hugging his body close to him. Slowly, arms came around his abdomen. Before Harry could speak, Draco pushed him back against the brick wall, pinning his body, and lips captured his own. It was sensual, yet sweet. Passionate, yet sentimental. Everything the first kiss shared between two people should be. It took Harry's breath, almost as if Draco had breathed air from Harry and stolen it from his very lungs. This was what he had wanted; what he had craved for the past few months.

The blonde pulled back, eyes meeting Harry's for a moment as they caught their breath. "Two weeks," Draco murmured. "'Storia's at work most of the week. She leaves at five and doesn't get back until one in the morning." He paused, closing his eyes and letting that sink in. "Give it a day or two. I'll tell her something tragic happened to someone close to you, and you needed comforting. I needed to get my head straight, and to avoid all the stress, we'll just postpone."

Harry nodded, at a loss for words.

"The Central Pub, on the corner of Yorkshire and 125th. Seven. See you there." Pushing off from the wall, Draco's gaze lingered on Harry for a moment longer before he ripped his eyes away and departed, heading back to the altar.

Harry stared. Draco was planning to be infidel with his wife with Harry. The thought wasn't pleasant, and Harry felt guilty already knowing what would go on and not denying the offer. But he ignored the urge to do what was right this time.

He would do anything to make Draco his.


	7. Seven

_I'm quite happy that I've been able to find time to continue writing even though I've begun college. But I know once things really get going, I won't have much time. I'll still try to keep up with this story and update at least once a week, though!_

_So, this chapter is like an emotional rollercoaster. Happy, then sad, then a tab bit happy again. Enjoy!_

**Warnings – dramatic scenes**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Empty Pages<em>**

_Chapter Seven – You Consume Me_

_Written by Illumination_

"Pot–... Err, Harry, stop staring. It's rude."

The brunette blinked, unaware that he had been gawking at the other male for quite some time. Breaking into a smile, he murmured a soft "sorry" and raised his mug to his lips. The butterbeer went down smoothly. Draco regarded him with a slightly discerning gaze before taking a sip of his own wine. He'd already explained that Malfoys were expected to drink the finer alcohols. Harry had refused to be disgruntled, and ordered himself a butterbeer. It had always been one of his favorite drinks.

Harry was pleased that Draco was at least making an effort to break old habits. It had been six days... Six marvelous days, wherein Harry was positive he'd been dreaming and would wake up any moment now. In the near-week, they had met in this very pub every day. On Tuesday they'd gone on a walk around the park. Thursday night they'd spent in Draco's home. Harry held back a smile as he recalled the happenings of that night. They'd lost track of time, and both jumped out of their skins when the doorbell rang. Draco had hurried to the door after practically tossing Harry out the sliding door. It had all been in vain, though. The person at the door had simply been trying to convert people to his religion. They had said goodbye afterwards, though, since Astoria would have been home in an hour.

Six days, and Harry had no idea if he was winning Draco over or not. Sure, the blonde seemed happy with him. Harry tried to make himself a good listener, because Draco had a lot of troubles to share. The brunette didn't mind listening. He'd given the blonde his full attention when he'd talking about the happenings after the war, his mother's concerns, Astoria's parents' constant initial urging to wed with Draco only because he bore a noble name, and countless other confessions. Harry couldn't help but wonder if Draco had shared all these things with Astoria as well.

"Mother sent me an owl yesterday." Draco's voice brought Harry from the deepest corner of his mind. Blinking a few times, he focused on those gray-blue eyes. The blonde reached into his coat pocket and extracted an envelope. "She said it came from the Burrow, and it was to be sent to me."

Harry reached out and pulled the parchments out of the stuffed envelope. There were a mess of them, and they were all folded in half. Horrified, he unfolded one. His handwriting. As if he'd been burnt, he threw it down on the table.

"These are my journal pages!"

Draco glanced around the pub, noticing a few people staring. "Calm down." He lowered his voice, leaning over the table a bit. "Do you really feel this way?"

Both ashamed and angry, Harry lowered his head. He figured Ginny must have sent them to Narcissa. But what he couldn't understand is why she would do such a thing? Closing his eyes, he sighed in exasperation as he recalled telling her that he was having trouble letting Draco know exactly how he felt. So she had sent him his journals.

"Harry." The brunette raised his head to find Draco staring him down. "Answer me."

"Yes, okay? I do! Are you bloody happy now?"

Everyone was staring now. Draco was silent for a moment, and then he reached across to take Harry's wrist in his grip. Standing and tugging, the couple exited the pub.

"Ow, Draco–...!" Harry objected. The blonde's grasp on his wrist was tight; blunt nails dug into his skin. The taller male ignored the protests, dragging Harry into an alley where he finally released his wrist in favor of blocking the entrance so Harry couldn't escape.

"Explain, Potter."

Harry wanted to run. He wanted to curse at Draco; to hit him for making him feel this way. He wanted to tell him _everything_. But his entire vocabulary seemed to have been erased from his mind, save for one expression. And the three words were coming up like word vomit, whether he wanted to say them out loud or not.

"I... I love you."

Draco's face changed. Harry witnessed the marvelously dramatic transition of emotions; from anger to shock, then confusion, then a mix of arrogance and satisfaction, until finally he settled on tender affection.

"Harry, I–"

"No. You told me to explain, so listen." His words effectively shut Draco's mouth, and the blonde regarded him with earnest eyes. "I don't know when, or why, or how. I don't know if it's going to last forever. All I know is I could barely live without you. I couldn't eat, I could barely sleep... Everyone tried to cheer me up and console me, but it didn't really help. In the end, it had to be you. It was always you, I guess." Looking down, the brunette heaved a sigh. "And I don't expect you to leave everything you've worked for just because I walked into your life again. It would be a shame just to throw it all away. I didn't even expect you to give me this chance in the first place. But I couldn't live with myself if I didn't even–"

His words were cut off as the soft pads of fingers touched his chin, raising it until silvery-aqua eyes met his. Wordlessly, lips gently touched his own, effectively silencing him. When the taller of the two pulled back, it was only a few inches. His voice was a soft whisper.

"If you had told me this in the first place, we wouldn't be here. If I had known, you would have already been mine."

Harry stared up at the blonde in astonishment. Did his ears fail him? Had he heard right?

A slight frown framed Draco's face as he continued to speak. "Astoria may or may not have been a replacement... I was still figuring that out for myself. But when you're the only heir of such a noble name, there is much pressure to marry and pass on your name."

"Are you saying your mum pushed you into marrying her so you could have kids?"

Draco smirked at Harry's interpretation, despite how correct it was. "To put it simply, yes. She met all the requirements... She was pure-blood, reasonably attractive and we got along fairly well. I just didn't... I loved her, yes. But... It wasn't true love. It wasn't passionate. It _isn't _passionate. All those things you said were relevant, Harry. Yes, I am her everything, because without me, she would be poor. She does tell me she loves me, but not with passion. I don't feel unique around her. I'm just another rich bloke with an honorable name. I'm not particularly excited to see her – when we do see each other. She's not everything I want, or need. She couldn't live without me, but only because of money, not spiritual or emotional ties. We sleep in the same bed, but... Sex is like a chore. Detached. Dispassionate. Like we're just going through the motions." Draco paused to let Harry take everything in. The brunette appeared to be in a slight state of shock.

"I would think about you at night sometimes. Almost every night after you showed up on my doorstep. But then I started doubting myself. I wasn't sure if you had fallen in love with the old me or the new me. Because I've changed, Harry. For the better, I guess. I'm still proud – I'll always be proud. But I don't flaunt it as much. I'll always dislike mudbloods. But I suppose I'm not as rude as I used to be. I don't know if you loved those things about me..."

"You're still the same to me."

Draco met Harry's eyes, absorbing the slight smile on his face.

"Am I?"

"Yes. I was always in love with _you_, Draco. It doesn't matter if your personality changes, or if you stop liking something, or you act a bit differently. That doesn't really change how I feel. I think even back in school, I was curious about you." He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't think I realized what it was yet... Hell, I didn't even realize I was attracted to males until around my fifth year. And even then, the thought didn't occur to me when I thought about you. I guess I never put two and two together."

Draco smiled a bit, though Harry saw the tension. The blonde obviously cared about Astoria; perhaps like Harry cared about Ginny. But he had a feeling Astoria wasn't as emotionally strong as Ginny. And their relationship had never been about money, or a noble name. Ginny could find many others that would make her happy – perhaps even happier than Harry had made her. Astoria's chances with Draco were possibly a once in a lifetime opportunity. And Harry could tell it was stressful on Draco to think about crushing those chances and maybe even corrupting her future.

Harry thought it was best to let Draco mention it first, but when the blonde spoke, Harry was convinced they had some sort of subconscious connection. "I don't know what to do about Astoria."

"... Maybe you could just tell her the truth..."

"It's not that simple, Harry." Draco ran a hand through his short blonde hair, ruffling it to an appealing status of bedhead. "It's what I'm expected of everyone. I made a commitment to her. The world would talk about us..."

"People have been talking about me my whole life, Draco," Harry deadpanned. "I'm plenty used to it."

"I know you are, but I'm not. Just think of what my father would say..."

"You're father's in Azkaban for life."

"Do you have to rub it in?"

"Sorry, but does it really matter what he thinks?"

"Yes, it does! He was a big part of my life–"

"But he's not in your life anymore."

"That's like saying you don't care what your parents would think!"

"My parents died to protect me. Yours nearly got you killed."

"_All my father ever did was care about me!"_

"_If he cared about you so much then why did he go and get involved with Voldemort–"_

"_He thought he would rise to power!"_

"_And why on earth did your mum get involved too? Is she that thick–"_

"_DON'T YOU SAY A WORD AGAINST MY MOTHER!"_

Both fell silent, breathing heavily. Fiery silvery-blue clashed viciously with emerald. The air around them crackled ominously.

"Do you love me... Or not."

It was more of a statement than a question.

"Harry, I told you. It's not that sim–"

"Answer the question, Draco!"

The taller blonde swallowed. For once in his life, he didn't feel completely confident in himself. Harry was someone whom he'd always strived to impress; since he was a little lad at the age of eleven. He'd struggled to grasp 'The Chosen One's' attention for six long years, then finally accepted defeat and went through the painful stages of rejection. He'd acknowledged the fact that he and Harry were from separate bloodlines, brought up differently, and stood on opposite sides of a war. It had taken him over two years to somewhat get over Harry.

And now that he could have him, Draco found himself doubtful.

After a long absence of words, Draco finally met the hurt jade orbs and spoke. "I don't think I ever stopped loving you, Harry. You were the only person I would have ever opened up like a bloody book to, and I'm not exactly proud of that. But _you_ were the one who never spared me a second glance. _Your _side of whatever could have been was what was lacking. So I don't believe you have the authority to question me like that."

Harry was stunned into silence. Draco was arrogant, rude, mean; he was... Right.

"I don't think we should keep seeing each other behind Astoria's back. It's not right," Draco murmured, lowering his head to examine their feet. Harry's heart dropped into his stomach. His mouth became extremely dry. His eyes burned. "You should go home, Harry."

With those parting words, Draco turned and left the alley, hands in his pockets. Harry couldn't even watch him go. Tears swam in his eyes as the man he loved walked right out of his life.

* * *

><p><em>Dear Mr. Potter,<em>

_To make things clear, I must first inform you that I am not a fool. I am well aware of your visits with my fiancée. And, to be completely honest, I am not surprised. You were the very reason I hired someone to tail Draco. I had my suspicions from the beginning, but once Draco postponed our wedding to supposedly 'help you grieve over a loved one', my worries were confirmed._

_Now, the question is not whether you love him more than I do. Although I have my opinion and you have yours, love is not something that can be measured by any unit. There is no question to be asked here. Only a single statement._

_I have seen the way he looks at you. The way he talks about you, with so much passion in his tone. His dreams of you (that he most likely never told you about). Draco is a proud man. And I have witnessed something occur with him during his period that never occurred when he was courting me. Draco is fearful of falling in love so desperately, because he struggles to maintain his composure. He is afraid to love you as much as he does. It takes quite a person to unravel Draco Malfoy._

_While I write this letter to you, I don't know what will happen to me. And it is a shame a man with such a noble name will not bear children. But over the past year, I have grown to know the man you've known since you were eleven. Perhaps you know him better than I, but what I do know is that I cannot, in good conscience, force Draco into something that makes him unhappy. All I want is his joy. And what brings him joy is you._

_And so, Harry Potter, I trust you will love him. Take care of his heart, and I pray he will do the same to yours. Perhaps two broken beings make one healthy one. Please put every bit of yourself into your relationship with him. Draco is not as strong as he acts. Make the both of you happy._

_Once I send this letter off, I will write a separate one that Draco will read when he returns home from work. By the time you read this, he will be arriving home. You won't have much time to prepare._

_Please give him another chance. He didn't mean what he said. He does love you. And we all deserve another chance._

_Astoria Greengrass_


	8. Eight

_Fluffffffffffffff everywhere, without making them too ooc, I hope..._

_My hair smells like cherries. Anyway, enough of my randomness. For those of you who were stressing over Draco being so thick and leaving Harry behind... BEHOLD! I give you chapter eight!_

**Warnings – slight Romione, Drarry fluff**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Empty Pages<em>**

_Chapter Eight – Now or Never_

_Written by Illumination_

"I'm sorry, mother."

Narcissa was silent for a long moment as she raised the cup to her lips. The air was pregnant with tension and a predicted quarrel. Her nails were freshly painted deep purple.

"... You do realize what this means, Draco?" Her tone was difficult to interpret, her expression vacant. "You realize what people expect of us."

"Yes, mother."

"You do realize that I don't particularly care."

Draco lifted his head in disbelief.

"You have always been my top priority, Draco." She smiled, although it was perhaps a bit sad. "Your happiness is what matters to me. And if Harry Potter is what makes you happy, then so be it."

Draco couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Was his mother giving him permission to be with another male? And _Harry Potter_, of all males? Raising his eyes to hers hesitantly, he murmured," You aren't angry about the wedding...?"

"Obviously, there will be questions. We will have to decide how to deal with them. Of course, the decision is up to you. I can't say I am not irritated that you didn't mention it before we set everything up and invited everyone... I also can't say I'm surprised."

"You're not...?"

"I know my own son, Draco." She reached out to take one of his hands in hers, fixing him with aqua eyes. "I knew you weren't happy with Astoria, but it was perhaps the right thing to do, in the society's eyes. All your years in school, when I wanted to give you everything you wanted... There was only one thing you wanted, and I could not give it to you. Freedom. Liberty. The friendship of a certain Chosen One." She allowed a small smile to touch her face. "And now that the war is past, you can attain what you wanted, without drastic consequences." She sighed, releasing his hand. "Do what makes you happy, my son. That is all I want."

Draco's smile began to fade, and he stood to walk away slowly, running a hand through his short hair. "I think I hurt him, mother. I pushed him away."

"Then pull him back." Narcissa stood up, going to her son, and rested her hands on his shoulders, lingering behind him. "Pull him close, hold him tight, and never let him go."

* * *

><p>"Honestly, Harry." The brunette didn't even turn to face Hermione. "Harry James Potter! Can't you move away from that window for one second?"<p>

"I'm waiting."

"I know you're waiting! But you've been waiting for three days!" Even Hermione's patience was being tested by the stubborn male. Breathing a sigh, she managed to calm herself down. "Harry, listen. I don't like to see you like this. None of us do. We care about you." Touching his shoulder, she coaxed him to look back at her. "You need rest, Harry... Why don't you get some sleep? We'll wake you up if an owl comes for you."

Reluctantly, Harry allowed Hermione to pull him up to stand and lead him into his bedroom. Ron was lying in his bed, elbow propped up as he read a book. He raised his eyes as they entered, gaze questioning. Hermione shot him a look, and then settled Harry down into bed. As she pulled the blanket over him, he set his glasses on the table beside his bed.

"I just miss him so much, Hermione."

"I know." She sighed softly, watching him lie his head down on the pillow. "Try to get some sleep, Harry. Your being exhausted isn't going to do any of us any good." Grudgingly, Harry turned onto his side and shut his eyes. Once she was satisfied he was drifting off to sleep, Hermione made her way back to Ron's bed. He was still awake and propped up, gazing at her sleepily.

"'S wrong with him?"

"You know what's wrong with him, Ronald." The girl looked stressed; worn out. "Just keep him company, alright? The last thing he needs right now is his best friend thinking he's mad." With a reluctant nod, Ron leaned up to kiss the corner of her lips softly. She offered a small smile.

"Stay here tonight?"

Hermione looked mildly horrified. "Ron, that would hardly be appropriate!"

Ron grinned. "Relax, love. I was kidding."

"Oh."

"'Night 'Mione."

"Goodnight."

* * *

><p>Not twenty minutes later, Hermione was the only one still awake and thus, by her lonesome downstairs in the den. She was determined to finish the book she'd started earlier in the morning, even if it meant losing a bit of sleep. It was quiet; the only sound being the ticking of the clock on the wall and the sound of dishes washing themselves in the distant kitchen around the corner and through the dining room. She sat by the crackling fireplace, warmth radiating from the flames.<p>

A loud knock startled the girl, causing her to jump. He book clattered to the floor. Muttering a curse, she picked it up and set it on the chair, her place effectively lost.

"_Who could that be at this hour?"_ she whispered, drawing her wand from her pocket. Cautiously making her way to the door, she prepared herself. Was it a Death Eater? A robber? Perhaps it would be better not to answer it at all... She was probably being silly. It was no one dangerous. Murmuring a spell, the knob unlocked and turned itself, the door swinging open to reveal...

"You!"

The blonde attempted a small smile, waving two fingers. "Hello Granger... I–"

The girl interrupted him, lurching forward and chasing him as he stumbled back until he was against the wall outside of the kitchen. The tip of her wand pressed against his jugular. _"Granger, it's me!" _His voice was high-pitched.

"Shut it!"

Draco winced, holding up his hands in surrender. "Listen, you." Hermione glared. "I am tired of seeing my best friend in despair all the time! He used to be one of the strongest people I knew until you came along. You must be pretty thick if you think you're going to come here and taunt him with your marriage and your bloody–"

"I came to apologize!"

Hermione's jaw unclenched, and the tension in her arm faltered a bit. "You, what...?"

"Astoria and I are done! I came here to tell Harry that."

Hermione didn't look convinced. "... If you hurt him again, you can bet what's left of your manor that I'll–"

"If anyone's going to get hurt Granger, it's me." Hermione lowered her wand. "He's all I have now. He will be the one to reject me now, if he hasn't forgiven me. It's now or never."

"... He's been sitting by the window, waiting for an owl from you for days." Draco stared at her, almost blankly. With a sigh, she tucked her wand back into her pocket. "Come on, then."

Leading him into the house, she shut the door behind him and pointed over at the den. "Wait there. I'll go get him..." The girl disappeared up the stairs, and Draco looked around nervously. He picked up a wooden reindeer sculpture. His hands were shaking. Setting it down before he dropped it, he ran a hand through his hair. He and Astoria were over. He'd seen the note sitting on his desk when he arrived home from work. Almost all of her things were gone. She had tried to stress that she wasn't angry, but Draco knew better. She was hurt. She would be hurting for a while. For once in his existence, he was thinking about someone else's well-being. But he attempted to remember what his mother had always told him: he was number one. He needed to think of himself before anyone else. And he knew he wouldn't have been truly happy with Astoria. Arranged marriages were never known for high happiness rates.

The lamp beside Harry's bed clicked on, bathing the room in a soft yellow glow. Harry, being the ever light sleeper, opened his eyes slowly. Ron continued to snore softly.

"Harry."

He recognized Hermione's voice. Reaching for his glasses, he slipped them onto the bridge of his nose. The girl above him looked like she hadn't been to bed yet. She also looked a bit frazzled. He sat up, immediately alert.

"Is something wrong?"

She sighed, resting her hands on her hips. "No... Come downstairs with me, alright?"

After getting up and slipping on a t-shirt, Harry followed Hermione past the still snoring Ron and down the staircase. The light downstairs was dim. A charmed cloth was drying a dish in the sink. It reminded him of the first time he'd set foot in the Burrow, during his second year. Harry stopped at the bottom of the stairs, watching the dish lift itself up into the cupboard.

Someone cleared their throat. Halfway through turning his head, – in the span of a quarter of a second – Harry realized that the sound was too deep to be Hermione's.

Emerald eyes met silvery-blue. Both were stripped of their pride. Deprived of anger, guilt, and jealousy. All in one clash of eyes.

Both were quiet for such a long time that Hermione began to find it extremely awkward. Touching Harry's shoulder, she whispered, "Will you be alright?" The brunette nodded, not able to take his eyes away from the man before him, or even search his brain for an answer that made sense. "Try not to make too much noise. You'll wake everyone. Go outside if you must." Once Harry had nodded again, Hermione squeezed his shoulder and departed, retreating up the staircase.

"Let's go–"

"–Outside?"

Harry smiled a bit as Draco finished his thoughts. "... Yeah." Turning, he led them both outside and shut the door. Draco took his hand wordlessly. Harry looked down at their intertwined fingers; Draco's were paler, longer, and leaner, just like his figure. Without an explanation, he began walking. Harry followed, discovering he didn't really need a reason.

They walked for quite a while in the long grass, moonlight bathing the landscape in a milky glow. Harry stole a glance or two at the blonde beside him. His skin was turned to alabaster in the luminescence. Harry felt himself falling and becoming submerged in another wave of affection, but, this time, he let himself drown. He was tired of fighting the current. Going down with this ship was something his heart had wanted for a long time. If anyone was going to steal his heart, it would be Draco.

"Harry? Look."

Draco's voice was soft; breathy. Harry emerged from his mind and absorbed the sight before him. An enormous tree, incongruous and majestic, loomed up from the elongated grass. Its bare branches twisted and winded upwards, reaching for the heavens. Harry allowed the taller male to lead him close to it, and soon they stood by its massive trunk. A small stream trickled past Harry's feet.

"Mother approves."

Harry's head rose to examine the blonde as he spoke. His eyes were ablaze with sincerity. "She doesn't care about the wedding. She wants me to be happy. And she knows you make me happy."

"... I do?"

Draco chuckled. "Yes, you dimbo." Lifting a hand to his cheek, he murmured, "You make me ecstatic."

"You sure can be charming when you want to."

"It's a Malfoy thing."

"Really? 'Cause your dad never charmed me."

"I missed you, Harry."

Draco's genuine confession left Harry at a loss for words. Shaking his head, he murmured, "I missed you too. I'm tired of denying it. My heart wants you."

Lips as soft as a rose touched his, gently at first, then more passionate. Entry to his mouth was granted, and a warm body pressed him up against the tree. Finally, all was right in the world again. Harry felt at ease, though contrastingly wary. He feared Draco resembled sand; the tighter he held, the faster he would slip through his fingers. Throwing his arms around the blonde's shoulders, he held tight.

"Easy Potter, I'm not going anywhere..." The words were murmured against his lips.

"I'm not losing you again."

It was strangely ironic, that Harry would be the one to hold him so tight, when Draco's mother had spoken of something similar. "You're right. You're not," Draco murmured.

"Promise?"

Lips touched the corner of his mouth.

"Cross my heart and hope to be Avada Kedavra'ed."


	9. Nine: Part I

_What a short chapter... My apologies everyone, but I had to cut it off at the cliffhanger... XD_

_Well... Enjoy this! It gets a bit heated here._

**Warnings – T-rated actions**

* * *

><p><strong>Empty Pages<strong>

_Chapter Nine – Part I: Hearts Collide_

_Written by Illumination_

"I can't believe we're here."

"Well, I thought we should kick off our fresh start correctly."

"Yeah, but this place is so damn expensive..."

"If you're going to be a Malfoy, you're going to have to get used to this, Harry." A smartly-dressed waiter appeared at their table, balancing a tray of wines. Before he could speak, Draco revealed a charming accent. "Two glasses of Romanée-Conti, if you would."

"Special occasion, sir?"

Draco shot Harry an evocative look. "Indeed."

Once the waiter was gone and they were returned to seclusion, Harry sighed. "Draco, I don't like wine..."

"Honestly, Harry..." Draco fixed him with an exasperated look. "Do you want me to order you a Butterbeer when he comes back?"

"No, it's okay..."

"Just as well. I don't think they even serve that here..."

The waiter returned with two glasses and a bottle. Draco continued to gaze at Harry fondly as the man rid the bottle of the cork and poured until both glasses were half full. Harry smiled a bit, taking the moment to appreciate their surroundings.

The tablecloth was red satin; exquisite. Harry winced at the thought of someone spilling food on it. There were two candles placed in the center of the table, their flames flickering gently. A single rose lie between the candles. There were no other tables close to theirs, and Harry found he rather liked the isolation. Returning his gaze to the table, he watched Draco take his glass in his hand and take a small sip.

"Honestly, Harry, if you don't appreciate this, then you're mad."

Harry laughed, and then raised the glass to his lips. Wincing a bit, he swallowed. Draco glared playfully. "What's wrong with it?"

"Ah... Nothing. Just didn't expect to it be so strong."

The blonde closed his eyes and sniggered softly, sipping his wine again and sighing in appreciation. The taste was exquisite, just as he remembered.

"We're not eating too, are we?"

Draco snorted. "Of course we are." Upon being fixed with a worried look, he sighed. "Harry, just because we've lost some of our fortune doesn't mean I'm poor. I have more than enough to pay for one dinner, alright?"

"It's not that, I just..." Harry sighed, looking down at his glass of wine. "I'm just not used to being taken to places like this."

"Well get used to it. I'm going to spoil you from now on."

Harry laughed, looking up at the blonde. "You're just going to buy me random things?"

"To a point." Draco watched Harry take another small sip of the wine, his nose wrinkling. Smirking a bit, he reached out to attain the attention of a passing waiter. "Excuse me, sir..." The waiter leaned down, and Harry watched Draco murmur something into the man's ear.

"Of course, sir."

The waiter left. Harry narrowed his eyes. "... What was that?"

"You'll see." Draco's eyes sparkled. Harry couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

><p>His hand was so warm. Harry walked beside him, holding onto that hand tightly. It was a cool evening. The stars twinkled in the velvet sky above, and the crescent moon shone down on them.<p>

Harry felt a bit woozy from the butterbeer Draco had gotten him. He smiled again as he recalled it. He hoped Draco – at the least – knew he was trying. Their upbringings couldn't have been more different; it was like merging two opposite cultures. They would both have to give if this was going to work.

"You're not going back to the Burrow tonight, are you?"

Draco's voice broke through the barrier that was keeping Harry within his mind. Shaking himself out of it, he glanced sideways at Draco. "I dunno, am I?"

"I'd rather have you at my house than that dreadful place."

Harry turned to look at Draco fully as they walked, smirking a bit at his subtle hint. Ever cunning, those Slytherins were...

"Yeah, alright. If you don't mind..."

"It's not like I'm doing anything else."

"I just meant, after _her_ leaving so recently."

"My house has been pretty lonely, actually. See? It's just dark inside when I come home now."

Harry looked up in front of them, blinking in astonishment. Before them stood Draco's house; they were standing in the center of the cul-de-sac.

"How did we get back here...?"

"You really need to be more observant, Harry." Leading him up to the house, Draco unlocked the door and let them both inside.

It was no manor, but it _was_ a nicely furnished, upper-class residence. With white carpet, matching squishy armchairs and couches, a full fireplace, another full story upstairs, and an exquisite kitchen the size of the Gryffindor common room, it was quite the place to call home.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"We just had expensive wine, Draco..."

"I didn't mean alcohol. How about sparkling cider?

Harry smiled, shrugging his coat off. "Sure."

"Be right back."

Left alone in the sitting room, Harry hung his coat over the back of the couch. Had he imagined a few months ago that he'd be sitting in Draco Malfoy's living room while he got them sparkling cider, he would have simply laughed. Never in his wildest dreams would he have guessed he and Draco would be an item. As he had stated before... It was unfathomable.

But here he was, able to feel the warmth of the flickering flames from the marble fireplace on his skin. Leaning against the snowy upholstery of the loveseat. Curious as to what was taking Draco so long, he wandered out of the room and toward the kitchen. Just as he rounded the corner his view was suddenly obstructed by cool hands. He let out a yelp as he was pulled back against a lean body.

"It's just me."

"Dammit, Draco!"

A chuckle resonated through the blonde's chest, and Harry felt the vibrations. "I told you to wait in the other room. You nearly ruined the surprise."

"Is this still you spoiling me?"

"What a quick thinker, Saint Potter."

Harry smirked at the old, familiar nickname and allowed Draco to lead him forward. "Keep your eyes closed," he murmured, taking his hands away in favor of holding Harry's shoulders to guide him from behind. The brunette kept his eyes shut obediently. The scents of cinnamon and vanilla smoke drifted into his nostrils.

"I smell candles."

"Bought them just for you. Here, sit." Harry sat down in the chair Draco provided. "Don't you dare open those eyes."

"I'm not."

Lips collided with his own, startling an unprepared Harry. He recovered quickly; surprised to find that when he parted his lips, the tongue invading his mouth tasted delectable. He suckled on it, their tongues dancing together for a moment before Draco pulled back again. "Open up." Harry did as he was told, then closed his mouth around whatever Draco had put inside to taste it.

It was chocolate; and delicious chocolate at that. Harry wondered where on earth Draco could have gotten it. A sudden thought struck him. "There isn't a love potion in this, is there?"

"No. I don't think I need it. Do you?"

Harry grinned. "No. You are your own love potion."

"Indeed I am..."

Lips met his again, this time taking the delightful taste from _his_ mouth. The melted chocolate lingered between them. Harry's buds were overwhelmed with the taste, but his nose was filled with the musky, fiery scent of him.

He pulled back again, and Harry licked his lips. "Open your eyes." Harry did so, looking up into silvery-blue eyes; the colour of a pond in the moonshine, with the equal capacity to drown him in. His breath stolen, he noticed the candles and box of chocolates settled on the table. But he couldn't tear his eyes away from the blonde's gaze. He had no desire too.

"I'm tired." He was nothing of the sort.

There was a sparkle in Draco's eye. "Would you like to go to bed?"

"I think that would be nice."

"What about the chocolates...?"

Harry smiled slightly, looking up into those gray-blue eyes. "I can... Not have chocolate..."

* * *

><p>Both stumbled down the hallway, Harry laughing at Draco nearly tripping over his feet. They didn't even make it to the bedroom before their lips were inseparable. Harry let out a little <em>'oof'<em> as he was pushed back against the wall roughly. Lips crashed into his, a lean body pinning him so he couldn't escape. But it wasn't enough. Harry _craved_ more.

Wriggling out of his grasp, the brunette pushed the door to Draco's bedroom open. He'd never been inside. Everything looked expensive. From the luxurious oak desk to the deep red satin sheets, Harry felt as if he were in a medieval bedchamber. Candles were scattered amongst the room, transforming it into a glittering grotto. Had Draco planned this far ahead? Harry couldn't decide if that was romantic or arrogant. Either way, it was purely Draco. He turned back to face the blonde, who had been standing close behind him as he admired the boudoir.

"Arms up," Draco murmured. Hesitantly, Harry lifted his arms as the blonde gripped the hem of his shirt. "I want to see all of you."

His words sent a jolt of yearning right through Harry, tingling throughout his body and striking his groin. Dazed, he stared up at the former Slytherin as his shirt was pulled over his head, temporarily obstructing his view. The cool air drifted around his abdomen and chest, tightening his nipples and emitting a shiver from the boy. Greedy silver-blue eyes ate up the exposed skin. Harry felt like a rabbit standing before a wolf; prey, about to be devoured.

"You too."

Draco correctly interpreted the softly spoken words and tugged his shirt over his head without much hesitation. Harry's eyes lowered without thinking, taking in the torso before him.

They were about the same mass, but because Draco was considerably taller, it made him appear leaner. He had gained a few healthy pounds of muscle during their time after school; he possessed what one would call a 'dancer's body'. Slender, with subtle muscles that kept him from looking feminine. His skin was paler than average; similar to a tan porcelain. Flawless. Begging to be touched. Not a hair in sight on his chest; ha shaved, or waxed. But a strip of dark blonde hair trailed down from beneath his navel to under his slacks.

Harry felt ugly in comparison. He was shorter; and, therefore, more weight was distributed throughout his abdomen. He had more curves – something a man was not supposed to have. Freckles dotted his shoulders and chest, rendering him flawed.

"Beautiful."

The whispered word drew Harry's attention. Raising his eyes to look up at him, he took in the sincerity within Draco's gaze. The Malfoy heir thought he was beautiful.

Harry grinned. That was enough for him.

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><p><strong>Sorry for the author's note at the end of this chapter, but I thought my readers should know this.<strong>

**I am currently struggling to deal with the end of a relationship of over 3 years. I can't begin to describe the pain I'm in. Obviously, I cannot write smut in this state... I hope for this story's sake and (more importantly) my physical and mental health's sake that I can find a way to cope with this soon enough.**

**Thank you all for your patience.**


	10. Nine: Part II

_Well, it's finally finished. It took me quite a while. Granted, college has started and I don't have near as much time as I want. Thank you all so much for the support. I suppose I've gotten past most of the pain. I'll be alright, in time. For now, enjoy this smut. It's not just a slice; it's the whole pie._

_As a side note, I'd like to say that this is __**not**__ the ending of this story. I've got some more things planned that will perhaps take another few chapters to finish up. Enjoy._

**Warnings – M-rated material! If you are offended by sexual situations, descriptions, male-on-male action, etc., then DO NOT continue!**

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><p><em><strong>Empty Pages<strong>_

_Chapter Nine – Part II: Fever_

_Written by Illumination_

Draco realized that he should feel ashamed, after all that had happened. He should feel guilty, for tossing Astoria aside like a used napkin.

But it was so much easier to give in to the curve of Harry's lips. So much simpler to drown those thoughts in the way the brunette's lips molded to his. Allowing the natural instinct to take over his body was much less complicated. It was a foreign language that neither of them spoke, yet it was encoded within their system, like a technology, planned to emerge at the time when it was needed. It was something they never knew that they knew. But it was there, all the same.

There was more drive; more motivation for Draco, who had experienced a situation like this. To Harry, it was new, like the first sight of snow. Invigorating. Exciting. Breathtaking. Foreign – but he had Draco's hand to hold while he experienced it.

The soft pads of pale fingers traced the outline of rosy, kiss-swollen lips. Equally flushed cheeks burned with similar intensity as the desire in his veins. Fervor threatened to overtake them both, engulfing them in flames that would lick at their insides until they would reach a peak together, tumbling over the edge of euphoria. For now, they resisted it, sadistically craving the burn to last as long as possible.

"Draco, this is my–"

A single, slender digit was pressed to curved lips, effectively silencing the brunette. It need not be said. All words that were necessary to be spoken could be conveyed through action.

Two bodies joined on the plush bed, shedding remaining clothing that was not needed. A soft whimper escaped the lips of the brunette at the satisfying sensation of skin touching skin. The leaner figure descended to capture roseate lips in a passionate kiss that made their heads spin. Harry was deliciously frightened of the hunger in the blonde's eyes. He was eager to let the other devour every inch of him.

The heritor did just that. A mouth dipped to sample the flavor of skin that was tanned compared to the contrastingly alabaster complexion. The smoothness of his throat, exposed with confidence. Teeth tested the arc of his clavicle avidly. Lips pressed to each pert nub upon his pectorals. Soft nips at the bones of his hips, breath playing around his navel. He moved back up the temple he worshipped and buried his face in the brunette's neck, breathing in his essence.

Harry's body molded to his instinctively, just as his lips had. Their scents were beginning to mingle, leaving him struggling to distinguish between the aromas. Perhaps it was the first stage of becoming a singular being. He took great delight in smelling like the blonde; maybe it was the sense of possession that attracted him.

Fingertips traced the plains of his flawless skin; the subtle jut of his shoulder blades, the junction between them. It was not something either of them could have denied... Not that they wanted to. Harry felt the blonde shudder beneath his touch, yet above him. Lips moved wordlessly against his neck, placing a chaste kiss below his ear.

"Make me yours, Draco."

"Not for just a little while, but forever."

Harry grinned at the man above him, gazing into those icy eyes that had melted only for him.

"Forever."

The brunette was silenced with a placid kiss, placed on the corner of his lips. The blonde shifted, and murmured something inaudible against his shoulder. Harry didn't realize what it was until he felt a fingertip circling his most vulnerable area. An area once virgin to all but Harry himself. This was the barrier that would be most unnerving to break. But it was something Harry had only dreamt about. And he wasn't about to let his nerves obstruct something he genuinely yearned for.

"Relax, Harry, or it'll only hurt more."

Of course Draco was right. And Harry tried to do just that. Exhaling slowly, he looked up into gray-blue eyes. _Reassurance_.

With the aide of the lubrication the spell provided, the slim member slid into him without much difficulty. It was a foreign feeling; not quite painful, but simply strange. Lips touched his temple as the finger pressed deeper. A wince. In one fluid moment, Draco captured the other's lips in a passionate kiss and curled his finger upward, emitting a muffled moan from Harry that the blonde swallowed greedily. The painful pleasure that rippled through the brunette left him yearning for more. And more was what he would get.

Another digit joined the other one, and Harry shifted. This would take some getting used to. Looking to Draco for some assurance, he found the blonde examining him, taking in every expression, every emotion written on his face. He wanted to memorize every detail; every freckle upon those immaculate shoulders, every curve upon his body, every fleck of blue in those emerald eyes. He wanted to know it all by heart.

The blonde began to slither down his body like the snake he'd once been. Harry might have known what he was up to before it happened, but his mind was fuzzy with longing. Even as the fingers left his body and that perfect mouth neared his hips, he was naïve. Only when slender hands pushed his cheeks apart and his head dipped down did Harry understand.

A gasp.

Then a shaky moan.

The blonde's tongue was slowly circling the orifice, teasing him with a newfound pleasure. A shudder rippled through his body, the little hairs on the back of his neck standing up. All he could think of was the eroticism of this action. Something so feral; so intimate... And he was sharing it with Draco _fucking_ Malfoy.

That sinful tongue – which had already devirginized every other inch of his body – pressed past that tight ring of muscles, invading the hot tightness. A groan spilled from Harry's lips as his head fell back. His feet came to rest tentatively on the blonde's shoulders as he continued to press that muscle into him, over and over. Had Draco practiced this before? With _her?_ The thought didn't irk Harry in the slightest. Draco was his now. Astoria had only been practice for the real thing.

That last thought almost made Harry outright laugh.

When Draco finally ceased, Harry was on edge. He wasn't a pervert. But he also a healthy teen. Of course he had experimented on his own, but with everything that had happened to him, it seemed he was either stressed about class, focused on finding horcruxes, worried about losing his loved ones, or a variety of other situations. He'd never put much effort into learning his body and indulging in that sinful pleasure. Being as it may, he didn't have much endurance.

Draco grinning knowingly. "Patience," he murmured, leaning down to seize a plump lower lip between his teeth. Nibbling lightly, his hands wandered up the body beneath him. He wouldn't allow either of them to make the mistake of being too anxious. They would relish these feelings, savor every second and remember this for the rest of their lives.

"Do you trust me, Harry?"

"If you'd have said that a few months ago, I would have thought you were a bit dodgy..."

The blonde presented his trademark smirk. "A few months ago, we wouldn't even have been in this predicament."

"True."

His expression softened. "You need to trust me for this to go smoothly."

Emerald met thick, silvery aquamarine. "I do."

"We're not getting married yet, Saint Potter."

Harry couldn't help but grin. _Yet._

Draco moved to his knees, taking the brunette's calves in his hands and swiftly raising his legs. One was lifted higher than the other, soft lips pressing to an ankle in a chaste kiss. Mesmerized, Harry watched him. The blonde leaned forward, allowing Harry's calves to rest on his slim shoulders. Harry found he was quite flexible, and this position wasn't much of a strain at all.

"Remember, relax."

"I know..."

It was easier said than done, though; that was quickly discovered. It only felt foreign at first, when his soft head slipped between that tight ring of muscles. But, another inch or two, and Harry found himself tensing up. Whether Draco had been in his situation before or he was simply compassionate, Harry didn't know, but the blonde paused and leaned down to kiss his temple sympathetically. After allowing him a few seconds to adjust, he pushed in more. This time, he didn't hesitate, and instead murmured words of comfort and affection into Harry's ear. Still, it was a strain, and the brunette felt his back arching to accommodate the unwelcome member.

When he felt Draco's hips press to his backside, Harry knew he had hilted. "Worst is over," Draco mumbled against Harry's neck. In stark contrast to the discomfort Harry felt, he knew the Slytherin was probably experiencing ecstasy. Tears were gathering at the corners of Harry's eyes, and one slipped down his cheek. Draco wiped it away with his thumb. "Is it too much?"

Harry shook his head quickly. "'M okay..." Draco's nose touched his own, and Harry felt his trembling breath. "You're shaking..."

Draco smirked, though it wasn't condescendingly. "I'll be alright."

"This isn't your first time..."

"Blimey, no." The white-blonde pressed his lips to Harry's in a quick kiss to rid his lips of the frown that had appeared. "I didn't mean it like that. No, this isn't my first, but... It's the first time it's mattered to me so much."

Harry smiled a bit, and Draco took that as forgiveness. "This's the worst part, but I promise it'll get better." With that, he retracted his hips, pulling out.

A gasp.

Hands gripped the sheets tightly, knuckles turning white.

It certainly wasn't pleasure; Harry knew that much. At that moment, he just wanted Draco to pull completely out so the pain would cease. Instead, his head never left before he pushed back in again. Harry's mind grew fuzzy at the contrast of pleasure mixing with the pain. The realization of Draco being within him in itself was enough to push the pain away and leave him feeling lightheaded.

A few more slow thrusts and Harry found himself somewhat used to the sensation. But he craved more. Draco must have seen it in his eyes, because he pressed Harry's thighs down more until his knees were nearly touching his shoulders, leaving him utterly exposed. The blonde continued to press into him, increasing his pace a bit.

Little whimpers and soft moans began to fall from Harry's lips as their lovemaking became more intense. Draco's soft panting was against Harry's shoulder. He would occasionally grunt or groan softly, or raise his head to kiss the brunette. Their kisses began to become a bit less concentrated from the constant thrusting, yet the sloppiness made them all the more passionate.

This was what he had craved. Not the sex, specifically, but becoming one with the man he'd fallen chin over ankles for. He wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever; to be able to bring such pleasure and share it between them for the rest of their lives. How he had fallen so hopelessly in love with Draco Malfoy, he didn't know. But he wasn't one to ignore what the heart blatantly wants. To be able to feel such affection and devotion, as well as the level of lust and passion they felt at the time was quite overwhelming. Harry felt as if he might cry, explode, or both.

Soon, though, his mind could no longer comprehend such insightful thoughts. He and Draco were alone in the world. The euphoria the blonde gave him was the only feeling to be felt. Draco began to thrust harder, his tip reaching somewhere deep within the brunette. One little shift, another thrust.

Harry stifled his cry by breaking the skin of his lip.

White speckles dotted his vision; leftovers from the spectacular feeling. Every hair on his body felt as if it was standing straight up. Whatever Draco's head had touched within him... He wanted more of it. The blonde's lips curved into a strained smirk, and he mumbled something along the lines of, "There it is." He angled himself perfectly and plunged deep within him again, hitting that sensitive bundle of nerves dead-on. Harry's whole body shuddered. He wouldn't last much longer if Draco continued to do that.

And he knew. Suckling on Harry's bleeding lip, the blonde adjusted so his thrusts weren't quite as deep and just barely brushed the spot; enough to make Harry twitch and dig blunt nails into the blonde's shoulder blades. There would be welts there tomorrow, but neither of them really minded.

"I-I'm s-so close..." Harry could barely force the words out. Draco kissed him once again, and then mumbled one simple word.

"Together."

Draco's thrusts returned to their deepened state, filling Harry entirely and completely. As if made solely for him. His body couldn't hold out any longer, and he felt himself racing for the peak. Gripping Draco's shoulders tightly, he managed to stutter a few words.

"D-Draco, I... I'm...!"

That band in his lower abdomen snapped, and his back arched. His eyes rolled back as he came hard, shrill, wordless moans spilling from his lips. In turn, his contracting muscles tightened impossibly, sending Draco tumbling over the edge after him. Teeth sank into a flawless neck, claiming the being beneath him as he spilled his seed into the hot body.

Nothing could have ruined the aura of satisfaction as they basked together in the afterglow. The room smelt of their lovemaking mixed with Draco's distinctive scent. They smelt the same now. Neither minded that the other's skin was slightly sheened with sweat. Draco even put aside his compulsive hygiene urges to lie with Harry. They both could have used a shower. But neither had the will to break the contented atmosphere.

Harry was beginning to drift off when he opted to speak softly. "You'll be here in the morning, won't you?"

"Honestly Harry, where else am I going to go?" Draco's tone wasn't the slightest bit impatient, but tired, rather. His arm tightened around the brunette, who was curled up next to the lean body.

"But you promise you'll be here?"

Instead of questioning his irrational anxiety, Draco merely leaned over to capture kiss-swollen lips gently. He repeated the words he had spoken just four nights ago, when he had appeared at the Burrow. They had been the beginning of their relationship, and would always be the words Draco spoke when Harry needed reassurance.

"Cross my heart and hope to be Avada Kedavra'ed."


End file.
